Aunt cried out in a fury, and uncle stared, for he was much in liquor. But the grocer and the widow began hurriedly to gather them up.
"Steady," said I. "Whoa, my lass. What's come over you? This suits not with your mood this afternoon. I will admit Booby is no beauty and hath a tongue too gross for his phiz, but 'tis your own choice."
"Whom call you Booby?" cries the youth, rising in a passion that was compounded of wine and jealousy.
"If you will not sit down," said I, "I will teach you a lesson. Sit down and buss, you fool. Buss and be thankful."
He flopped into his seat foolishly, but miss rose and moved from the table. "I will not stay here for insult," she said, with spirit.
"You shall not refuse," says aunt, white with anger, "or you shall be turned out of doors this very night, you shall."
"Oh, she is a sly slut; she casts her eyes high," says the widow, in a high vindictive note.
"Look ye here," says the vintner sillily, and with a tipsy frown. "Let us not tangle this merry meeting into knots. Be easy all. If Nancy wants a husband, as well she may, being of a marriageable age, here's one for her, and no better than he—Mr Samuel Hogg, of Bristol. Sir, I toast you and Nancy as bride and groom."
I looked at the girl. She had come to a pause and now stood, her face demurely cast down, and she said nothing, not raising any protest. And then, in a flash, it came to me what she wanted. I could have laughed aloud if I had been in my own company. She took me for a real well-to-do haberdasher and would have me, the puss; or maybe 'twas my looks took her, for she is not the first to be tantalised by my bearing. But I had not bargained for this, and so I laughed a little, and looked askew at the vintner.